life is more than just a bicycle journey
by penned-name
Summary: life is more than just a bicycle journey... smile


**Life is more than a bicycle journey. That, I apprehend after all the long journeys I had with this wheel and axled means of self-effort transportation. **

**Because while at my journeys, I realized that riding my bike is more than the pleasurable wind that touches my skin as I ride against the air, and the bumps and humps that make you laugh and curse at times. Those are all just a part of it. **

**But what I loved the most is the sense of peace you feel whenever you pedal and see the sudden transformation of the places you luckily pass by. **

**Somehow it reminds me of a very important phenomenon: it is on how everything by sudden occurrence (change included) is natural in people's lives. With my free flowing adventure trips, my mind went free with the air, also doing continuous thinking and self-accepting, that like my bicycle journeys, there are more to see and to wait for. **

**For truly; life is more than a bicycle journey. But instead of places, you pass by circumstances. Circumstances that however weird or hard to handle is natural in a person's life.**

The white cloth of his shirt sticks with his back, as a sweat drops on his forehead. He faces the morning sunshine with an optimistic smile.

"Phew, that was more than the miles I rode last week…" using a white hanky, he wiped his sweat and drank from the mineral water that he just bought on the store he passed by. His grayish hair turns in to a shimmer of silver as the sunray's touches it.

After his little rest, he decided to go back to his journey. He considers it good exercise, not just for the body but for the mind as well. Riding long hours on his bike give him enough time to think, to analyze and stimulate his brain.

"Matte! Little guy!!! You left this!" A man was waving; shouting from the store where Takemoto had just went in to buy his water. He was waving a dollar to Takemoto. It was his change. Takemoto had concluded that too much daydreaming makes you forget a lot of important things.

"Just cut a little of that, your dream world that is. Here." The man said giving Takemoto a soft punch on the shoulders after giving the dollar. He smiled.

"Oh!" He was a little embarrassed, scratching his head. He can't believe it. He doesn't have a lot of money left and he let himself leave a dollar behind!

"Arigato." Takemoto said shyly. He didn't react on the fact that the man called him _little_ guy.

He continued. "Good thing you called my attention Sir, I don't have much money left for myself. I had my vacation leave at my work this week, so that's why I need to be as careful with my money. I'm such a baka. Gomenasai."

"That's nothing kid. Just be more attached with your surroundings Takemoto is it right? You are still young; don't worry too much about life. Find what's your heart happy at and everything will soon come after." The man who handed him the change smiled, nodded for a bye-bye and went back to his store. It was nice meeting people as friendly as that man, an instant friend from a stranger met just minutes ago.

Before Takemoto had this little self-finding trip 5 days ago, he was studying in an art school were his money, without the help of his parents, is not enough for his tuition fee. He feels like a burden to his parents already that's why he is striving to juggle his part time work with his studies. With all his experiences on his dormitory, he felt that his mediocrity is blocking his way up. He felt, just a little stupid and useless.

_No, I am not that stupid. I just have to find something_. _I just have to gain a little of confidence of believing in myself and realize a lot of things._

He then placed the dollar at the back of his pant's pocket, shacking his head, and off he went back to his journey.

"Ok, so, today is Friday… got 2 more days for this journey." Contemplations ran through his mind.

But it seems that he hadn't learn anything from his experience. He was now again in to his thinking, dreaming of doing his best in his school, of striving to feed himself with his own independence; and soon made up his mind, that meeting finally a true love is the only thing lacking in his life right now. He needed an inspiration, and to him, maybe, that's the key for his success and happiness.

He was so much in to his daydreaming, not knowing that while on the peak of excessive fantasizing, and his hype of riding his bike…

His dollar fell, there in the middle of the rocky road of Domingo Street.

"Ohohohohoho." He continuously said.

Some buzz where heard all over the place. The passersby were quite wierded by a man walking like a zombie, eyes closed and his arms on a straightforward; and so with that they talked about him. He was like sleepwalking; on a middle of dreaming that he was Santa of some sort.

"Ohohohohoho."

He was still quite dreamy. His skin is porcelain like, but in contrast, he wears baggy clothes that could pass up as rags. He got silky raven hair, hair comparable to rich people, but he acts as if he is not. People want to approach him and wake him up. It seems that he was just sleep walking.

Entering to his dreams, he was dreaming of what had happened yesterday. After all his hardships, he was rich again! In his dream, he has a black plastic bag filled with lots and lots of dollars. But then, when a dog bit his leg, he was snap back to reality.

"Wake up you idiot!" The dog said in his thoughts. Or, rather, it was how Morita translated the dog's bark. Morita replied with the dog with a mad expression. With a special feeling of anger, he barked at the dog mockingly. It was just for the fact to enjoy the moment. Morita love being weird.

"You naughty dog, how dare you bite me? My precious leg! Now, you deserve this!" He tried to hit the dog with the plastic bag he is holding. So, it was not a dream after all. He was really holding a black plastic bag with lots and lots of money inside.

The dog was not hit, it moved fast because of its reflexes. With his tail pointing downwards, it ran fast away from Morita, very afraid.

"BWAHAHAHA" Morita laughed feeling a winner.

After laughing everything out, he felt drained and peeped inside his black plastic bag. He was almost blinded with all the money inside; he almost forgot that it was real, not just a dream. He got this big amount of money for working hard for the cinematography of a box office hit film with a famous Hollywood director. He remembered how tough he worked for all of this wealth, but bear in his mind how much fun he had at the same time. However, his happiness was tainted with depression as he remembered his brother, and how he really wanted to bring back their dad's corporation.

The big problem is: together with this, is his brother thirst for revenge.

Somehow, behind Morita's weird and complicated mind, he felt a little sad over his situation. He wanted to bring back their dad's organization, but doesn't want to feel remorse or revenge thirsty over those envious bastards who fooled their father just to get their company. He looked at all his money and felt guilty…

…dirty.

I don't want to be like them.

And so with all this evolving feelings, he walked slowly with complete awareness. He is wide awake now, contemplating on all his hardships, all the past sad emotions, as well the still bad feeling in spite of the success they had accomplished. True enough, it's not satisfying to get your way in to a goal thinking of revenge.

And yet he wondered… Why is he happy on the process? Is it because he enjoys what he does, not thinking of money, of revenge; but instead, the people that would be happy with his works? What is it with the sense of fulfillment he feels whenever he creates out of his own imaginative thinking own heart? 

And so, turning in to a complete halt on St. Domingo street, his eyes completely transfixed it's sight to a piece of low valued paper on the ground. It is a piece of a dusty crumpled dollar.

He ducked down and picked the dollar. Somehow, he felt that the dollar was higher valued than his over-flowing mounds of money. Feeling guilty over their revenge-inspired wealth, he dropped his black plastic bag and placed the crumpled dollar on his wallet for exchange.

"I don't feel the need for this lots of money any more… I could always make more of that, but this time with a different reason. I'll use my talents to make me happy and others happy… not to make others feel angry or revenge-seeking like us."

He then wrote some words in a piece of paper.

_To you lucky one._

_You may be lucky or not to receive this load. But I know, there is a reason for fate to bring this wealth to you. Use it wisely. But always remember, Life is more than wealth. Be happy and make others happy._

From: Black Santa 

He placed the letter out of the plastic and made sure it would be seen immediately. Being a regular passer of that road, he knows that there are only few people passing that street. Domingo Street looks dangerous than the other roads. He then stood up admiring his letter, and imagining making other people happy, the money being in good hands.

Straight ahead he walked leaving his money-filled plastic bag on Domingo Street. While walking he opened his wallet and held up the crumpled money up in the air. What story could this money have?

Morita then went back to his hyper-leveled self, hopping his way while thinking how important that dollar could be to the previous owner.

**Life is not about being contented and not growing and learning through acceptance. Rather, life is all about being happy and growing by doing the things you want. Money is just another thing. It just makes life more colorful, but complicated.**

**Life is a journey. Yes it is, and money is the air that comes with the travel. It could hit against us, or come along with us. It could be refreshing, but a lot of times dirty, with all the dust and smoke that surrounds us.**

All of this is what Morita think while he stares up to the crumpled money he lifted up in the air… still hopping and skipping like an idiot.

It was already dusk, the sky is in between the color of orange and violet. The sunset is indeed beautiful, and Mayama can't help it but to be affected emotionally with the colors of it. Somehow, the colors made him feel sensitive over the feelings of other people; particularly with the lady he is carrying on his back.

"Mmm-maya-mmma." She said in a very soft voice. She is still half-asleep. She is quite intoxicated because of too much drinking just a while ago. Good thing Mayama didn't drank as much as she did. With half consciousness she could see Mayama's brownish hair, enhanced with the color of the sunset. With their nearness, Yamada could smell him. His smell just gives her comfort.

He sensed it that this will happen eventually. Mayama knows Yamada, his childhood friend, and with that, he knows right from the very start, when she called him and invited him for a drinking session; that there is something bothering her. However, he never guessed it was this BIG, that to his dismay involves or rather **FOCUSED** on himself.

"Don't move too much! You are heavy! Sure you grew heavier the past 15 years!!!" Mayama shouted trying his best to balance. He tried speaking not awkwardly, with those words he heard her speak a while ago. He hoisted up Yamada and clutched her arms tighter. Yamada moved a little, making her face facing down Mayama's neck.

"Maaayama…" She is still groggy. But she knows Mayama is carrying her. Just like the piggy ride days when they were still kids. She wondered what happened to them really. Why did they never end up with each other?

Mayama blushed feeling Yamada's face on his neck's skin. He continued walking straight forward hoping they would reach their destination as soon as possible. He wished he never accepted Yamada's invitation for a drink… it was good enough it was afternoon when they started drinking, still not dark to be too dangerous.

That was when Mayama thought of his friend's words a while ago. Sometime in the middle of their drink and talkies, Yamada blurted out words only alcohol could give her courage to say. Something he could never take in as his friend.

It was now all too confusing. All too intricate. He loves Yamada too; she has everything a guy would like to have for a wife. She is beautiful, her long brown hair is desirable, her long legs are seductive, but nonetheless, he considers him his little sister, someone who needed his protection. He can imagine them together forever… but not as lovers.

"_Why not Mayama?"_ She said as if hearing his thoughts. Mayama's eyes widened out of shock. He didn't know what to answer. Here it goes again. Intoxication is really frightening. Especially to his position, one who is attacked by a drunken woman, with confessions he is not ready with.

"_I Love you. Why can't you love me back? Is it because of…" _

Thump. Thump. Mayama could feel Yamada's heart beat, beating at exactly the same time with his.

"Be-because of…" Mayama feels his heart beat faster than hers this time.

"Because of, because of--- _her?"_

Cold droplets of water dripped on his neck.

Halt. They stopped walking. The sun has already set. Mayama closed his eyes, and felt Yamada's pain. He doesn't want to hurt her, but he knows he will eventually. He gulped and held his hand for a moment, hoping that Yamada could feel how he feels with his touch alone.

He didn't spoke a thing and just sighed before continuing their walk. Yamada continues her cry, thinking it was only a dream.


End file.
